


Second Breakfast

by diemarysues



Series: Chocolate Buttons [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cooking, Fluff, Humour, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 12:44:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo has a cooking show. That's all there is to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alkjira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/gifts).



> The title's the name of Bilbo's show.  
> Characters mentioned but not actually having screentime: Dwalin, Bifur, Balin, Nori, Dís, Tauriel.
> 
> Fic's the result of watching too much Nigella. I infected alkjira with my plot bunny - she took care of Bilbo/Dwalin, and I'm doing Bilbo/Thorin.

As usual, the lights were too bright.

 

Bilbo had tried to ask for them to be dimmed – many times, in fact – as they ended up making him sweat if filming went on too long. But that would ‘compromise the shoot’, apparently. Bilbo didn’t understand it himself; food was beautiful, fullstop. You didn’t need special lenses or frames, surely.

 

“That’s nice, Bilbo. Now tilt your chin up.” Dori dabbed more whatever-it-was onto Bilbo’s face, ignoring the rolled eyes directed at him. “And to the left a bit.”

 

“You know I don’t need makeup, right?” Out of deference to Dori – and after a thorough dressing down the first time they’d met – Bilbo made sure to speak out of the corner of his mouth. Moving his face too much while the Dwarf was doing his job would be painful for all those involved.

 

“Yes, yes, your face is pretty enough, I know. Still, underneath these lights you were complaining about, you’re awfully splotchy. I’m just making you look like you do in real life, on camera.”

 

Bilbo wrinkled his nose, but let it drop. No use bemoaning something he couldn’t change (although that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t be complaining about it in the future).

 

It was a surprise for everyone, including Bilbo, when he started his career in television. He hadn’t really thought that he was worth anything that glamorous, but after publishing his first recipe book, there had been more than one offer to get him on air.

 

Funnily enough, as he was now telling the camera, it took a Wizard to get him to agree to be on telly.

 

“What happened that day – and this isn’t a word of a lie – was that an old friend of mine decided to invite guests over to _my_ house. And by guests I mean thirteen Dwarves, all of whom I’d never met before.” Bilbo grimaced. “Let me tell you, it is a good thing I have a sizeable pantry.”

 

Wiping his hands on a towel, he again looked into the camera as if to meet his viewers’ eyes. “If you’re ever in such a situation, the first thing you must remember is to keep _calm_. No throwing fits, no fainting – and for Heaven’s sake, don’t go making any promises before you know what’s going on.

 

“Secondly, don’t be afraid to ask your guests for help. I know I may not be the most commanding of figures – I’ve been assured of that, believe you me – but I’m more than capable of bossing people about.”

 

He could just hear the chuckling off to the side, but ignored it, smiling serenely. It was time for cooking, after all, not glaring.

 

The main course today was his father’s pan-fried fish – no fuss, for all that it took hardly any time at all and tasted heavenly. There was no batter involved, which meant no faffing around with dredging the filets in flour. It would be, as he explained to the camera, a waste of flour.

 

“Flour which I can then use for my chocolate chip cookies. And yes, I know I’ve been promising to show you how to make them for ages now.” Bilbo brought out his lovely already-washed cod, setting it aside with the garlic, butter, and lemons. “But I will be making good on that today.”

 

The only reason he was making those particular cookies today was because he knew for a fact that Dwalin was out of town. That seemed rather unkind, but Bilbo was rather tired of waking up to empty jars. Even he had more self control than his lover’s best friend.

 

Fish set aside for cooling, along with his easy potato salad on the side, Bilbo was chased away so that Bofur and his camera lads could get better shorts in the best light. He didn’t know why they weren’t satisfied with the first take – it wasn’t like he’d spilled anything onto the marble table.

 

“It’s a good thing you’re the cooker, Bilbo,” Bofur said, crooked grin in place. “Y’ve got no sense of the aesthetic.”

 

“Oh, that’s nice! I beg to differ, thank you.” He sniffed and patted the handkerchief that Bifur had placed in his waistcoat pocket. Although most of the clothes he wore onscreen were his own, the Dwarf in charge of wardrobe always had something to add. It ‘perfected his image’, if Bilbo understood Bifur’s signing correctly.

 

“Yeah, well, that’s Hobbit fashion. You aren’t gonna find a Dwarf that wears your clothes.”

 

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “Bifur does fine.”

 

“My cousin’s a little…” Bofur tapped the side of his head, winking. If Bilbo hadn’t known him well enough, he’d have been horrified at the irreverent way Bofur treated Bifur’s accident. “So he can’t be trusted.”

 

“And anyway we know there’s at least one Dwarf that wears Hobbit clothes,” said Kíli, suddenly appearing at Bilbo’s side and almost giving him the fright of his life.

 

“That’s right!” Fíli came up on Bilbo’s right, slipping an arm around his shoulders. “I mean, they’re probably a little tight on Thorin, but I bet that’s how Bilbo likes it.”

 

Bofur snorted loudly, and Bilbo sighed. “I should’ve known you two were lurking somewhere.”

 

“I just got off class.” Kíli smacked a noisy kiss to Bilbo’s cheek. “Decided to swing by so I could check up on Fíli here.”

 

“And I thought, since it’s a filming day, that we’d come see you. Balin said it was fine, since I’d finished with the music for Nori’s show.” Fíli and Kíli started leading Bilbo away, and Bofur waved cheekily as they left.

 

Bilbo scowled back. No help whatsoever.

 

“So where’s Thorin? Me and Fíli figured he’d be here.”

 

“He was here a second ago.” Snickering at him, as usual. Bilbo frowned. “And before you two ask; no.”

 

“No? What no?” Fíli’s eyes were wide and blue and innocent – which made it clear that he did have something up his sleeve.

 

“I know exactly why you two are here and wary of where your uncle is. You want my cookies.” He shook his head. Everyone was after them.

 

Kíli ruffled Bilbo’s curls affectionately. “Well, you don’t have to be a genius to figure it out. Can’t really blame us.”

 

“Plus we know Thorin will snatch up the cookies before us, so we just thought we’d get in quick.”

 

“Well, it didn’t work,” came a new voice, and Bilbo perked up immediately as Fíli and Kíli shrunk away (as much as they could while still towering over Bilbo). Thorin raised his eyebrows as he pulled Bilbo from his nephews’ grips. “So you two can bugger off now.”

 

“Thorin!” Bilbo nudged his side. “Language.”

 

His lover was unmoved, literally and figuratively. “Theirs is worse.”

 

“So hurtful, Uncle,” said the lighter-haired of the two. “I’d tell Ma if it wasn’t completely true.”

 

“Anyhow,” Bilbo said, trying to get back to the subject. “None of you are getting my cookies. I never get to have _any_ of them.”

 

“Maybe that’s because they’re so _good_.” Kíli leaned his forearm on Fíli’s shoulder. “And because you leave ‘em out for anyone to snatch up.”

 

“It’s not happening today.” He made a shooing motion with the hand he had free; his other arm was wrapped around Thorin as best it could. “Go on home, boys. You could make dinner for your mother. I’m sure she’d appreciate the surprise.”

 

“You’re the cook, though. Not us.”

 

That he wasn’t impressed by. “Oh, really, Kíli? Did I waste my time teaching you two to make my signature lamb cutlets?”

 

“Go on,” Thorin said firmly, before either could protest. “It’s about time you two did something nice for Dís. Run along – and make sure you don’t leave her with the washing up, either.”

 

“Thank you for that.” Bilbo smiled up at Thorin as Fíli and Kíli slunk off, muttering darkly to each other. “But you’re still not getting cookies.”

 

The expression directed at him was truly piteous – Bilbo had never seen Thorin’s eyes so huge. It was almost enough to make him feel sorry for his Dwarf. “I thought you were just lessening the blow for Kíli and Fíli.”

 

“You were laughing at me.” He prodded his finger right in the middle of Thorin’s broad chest. “Therefore I’ve decided you’ll have none of my hard work.”

 

“Too bad. Could’ve made it worth your while.”

 

Bilbo laughed when Thorin started nuzzling against the side of his face. It felt delightful, and he allowed his fingers to curl over Thorin’s arms. “I’ll keep in mind that I can exchange baked treats for sexual favours. But still no.”

 

“Terrible,” Thorin muttered, lips brushing over the point of Bilbo’s ear. “Evil. Really.”

 

“Mmhmm. I completely believe you.” He sighed in pleasure. “But you don’t have to stop.”

 

“I expect to be recompensed for this.” Thorin let his hands wander, thumbs dipping naughtily past Bilbo’s waistband. They rubbed firm little circles into his flesh, and his spine arched just a tiny bit, pressing closer to the heat of Thorin’s body.

 

He was brought abruptly back to the present by the director – Tauriel – reminding everyone that they had a minute left until shooting started again. Bilbo jerked back a little, sadly dislodging Thorin from his ministrations. “I have to work.”

 

“You’ve still got a whole minute.”

 

“Don’t you dare, Thorin.”

 

He pouted at Bilbo. “You’re the one refusing me my one true joy.”

 

“Well…” He tipped his head to the side consideringly, one corner of his mouth lifted up. “You could always do something for me.” Rising to the tips of his toes, Bilbo put his mouth to Thorin’s ear to whisper his request. Such was the power of Bilbo’s chocolate chip cookies that Thorin ended up agreeing.

 

And that was how Bilbo Baggins convinced Thorin Oakenshield to appear on camera. It cost him half of four dozen cookies, but that surely was a price worth paying.

 

(Unfortunately, Dwalin came back earlier than expected and swiped the rest. Bilbo despaired.)

**Author's Note:**

> This is totally not going to end up a series. I'm not going to write more stories for this 'verse. Nope. Not doing it. Please no.


End file.
